Followup to 'The Dark'
by JanetD
Summary: This is a short follow-up to the Second Season episode 'The Dark'. It picks up late in the afternoon of the second-to-last day portrayed in the episode.


**Title:** Follow-up to The Dark  
**Date Written:** 11/30/02  
**Author: **JanetD  
**Rating:** PG (mild language)  
**Summary:** This is a short follow-up to the Second Season episode The Dark. It picks up late in the afternoon of the second-to-last day portrayed in the episode.   
**Author's Notes:**   
**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fiction. The characters in this story are borrowed from the TV show "The Guardian". No money is being made from this story. Any resemblance of a character in this story to any real person living or dead is purely coincidental. Likewise, any resemblance between an organization depicted in this story and any such actual organization is purely coincidental.  
  
  
Friday 5:15PM at Fallin and Fallin  
  
Nick Fallin lifted his head from his work, and rubbed wearily at his neck. This week had really been a killer. He was tired down to his bones, and he was still in a bad mood after the earlier confrontation with his father. He glanced at his watch, and realized that he'd promised to meet James at the Incline in 45 minutes. He'd better see about getting his father home first.   
  
Nick hadn't seen his dad since coming back to the office, but he knew he was there. His father had walked back alone after the blowup the two of them had had on the street outside the eye doctor's office. Letting out a short sigh, Nick got up and walked across his office to the door. Exiting, he made his way swiftly across to his father's office. As he approached he could see his dad at his desk, head bent over the papers in front of him. Knocking, Nick received the familiar summons of come in. He stepped inside. His father raised his head just long enough to ascertain who his visitor was, then he returned his attention to what he was reading.  
  
Nick asked, You about ready to go?  
  
his father answered curtly, not looking up.  
  
Well, I've got an appointment at 6:00...  
  
Fine. I'll take a cab, Burton answered swiftly, still not making eye contact with his son.  
  
Nick replied without expression, and turned and left, pulling the door closed behind him.  
  
---+---  
  
It was nearly 8:00PM as Nick walked toward his house. As usual at this time of night, there had been no spaces available on the street in front of the house, so he had had to park one street over. As he approached, he could see that there were no lights visible on the first floor. Dad better not still be at work, he thought to himself with irritation. But he also knew it was possible his father was already upstairs. The guest room was in the back of the house, and he wouldn't be able to see any lights from his current vantage point.  
  
Nick walked up the exterior stairs and unlocked the door. Stepping into the foyer, he switched on the light. He listened for a second, but couldn't hear anything. The house was quiet as a tomb. This reminded him of his father's complaint about the silence a few days ago, and he grimaced. Placing his briefcase down and removing his overcoat, he started up the steps. He flipped on the hallway light, and made his way toward the guest room. The door was open, and he could see there was no light emitting from the room. Stepping up to the doorway, Nick could see that the bed was made. He stepped into the room, and turned on the overhead light. The room was empty. His father's belongings were nowhere in sight, and his suitcase was gone. Nick frowned. Dad must have come home in a taxi, and had the driver wait outside while he packed up his things. Nick sighed in frustration, and then was struck by a sudden thought. Turning, he made his way quickly downstairs to the kitchen. Opening up the refrigerator he found that his father's eye drops were gone. he thought, at least he remembered to take those with him. Now if he'll only use them.  
  
Nick came back out of the kitchen, and took a seat at the breakfast table. He leaned his head forward, and ran his hands through his hair as a mild depression settled on his shoulders. Dad was gone and James and his friends had done who-knew-what to those kids in that house. He almost dreaded turning on the news tonight for fear of what he might see. He really hoped that James had not done anything too drastic. It could rebound on him in a bad way...a really bad way.  
  
Nick sighed once again, and turned his thoughts to his father. He regretted the way he'd blown up at his dad earlier today. He had just been blind-sided by his father's accusation that he didn't have any friends. Then when he'd said that about being worried that Nick would go back to using drugs.... Well, it had been the last straw, the topper in what had been a very bad week, and he'd just gone on the attack. He regretted his words, but it still made him angry to think that his father believed he had a handle on what his problems were. His ...he was doing just fine, thank-you-very-much. He didn't need his father--or anyone--sticking his nose into his affairs.  
  
After another moment of wallowing in righteous indignation, Nick considered the current situation. Maybe it was for the best--Dad going home. His vision had improved considerably, and he would certainly be more comfortable in his own house. And it was the weekend; maybe he'd actually get some rest. If Dad would just remember to use those damn drops, everything would probably be fine. Nick briefly considered calling his father, but decided to wait until tomorrow. He thought tonight they could both use some breathing space.  
  
Sitting up and running a hand down the back of his head, Nick realized he was hungry. He didn't feel like going back out, though. He rose from the table, and walked into the kitchen. Opening a cabinet, he squatted down and began digging through a shelf of canned goods. Finding what he wanted, he stood up, triumphant. Campbell's clam chowder--that would do just fine. He pulled a bowl down from an upper cabinet, opened the soup, and dumped the contents into the bowl. After a couple minutes in the microwave it was ready. He'd eat, then tackle some of the papers in his briefcase that were for the other F&F cases he'd had to drop this week in order to focus on the American Hydrant-Trison Irrigation deal.  
  
---+---  
  
Burton Fallin stood at the top of the stairs, dressed in pajamas, robe, and slippers. He held the newspaper in one hand. He started down the steps at his normal pace. When he hit the third stair, his foot came down on a fountain pen that he had unknowingly dropped there the night before. His foot slipped out from under him, and he went tumbling down the staircase, crying out as he did so. He landed in a heap at the foot of the steps, his head making a sickening as it came in contact with the hardwood floor. He lay motionless, as a pool of blood began to spread outward from his head.  
  
Nick Fallin woke abruptly, his breathing rapid. It took him a second to get his bearings in the darkened bedroom, and then he breathed a sigh of relief. It was just a dream, he assured himself, speaking aloud. Dad hadn't fallen down the stairs; it was just a dream. Nick sat up, and glanced at the clock radio on the night stand--3:30AM. He felt a momentary impulse to call his father despite the hour, just to make sure he was all right, but quickly squashed it. It was just a bad dream. Dad was fine, asleep in his bed as he himself had been until moments before. Still...it couldn't hurt to give him a call in the morning. He'd call to see how he was doing, see if he needed anything. Feeling better once that decision had been made, Nick laid back down, and soon drifted back to sleep.  
  
---+---  
  
Saturday 9:30AM  
  
The phone rang three times before Burton picked it up.   
  
Dad, it's me.  
  
Nick could hear in his father's tone that he was still feeling prickly about their confrontation yesterday.  
  
How ya feeling?  
  
I'm fine, was the brief reply.  
  
Nick said, keeping his own tone bland. Is there anything you need?  
  
  
  
You sure?  
  
Yeah, I'm sure.  
  
Well...call if you need anything. Burton didn't reply, and Nick paused, corralling his own growing anger, while simultaneously trying to decide if he should remind his dad about using the eye drops. Finally he just said, Okay then. I'll see you at the office Monday.  
  
his father answered, and hung up the phone.  
  
Nick stared at the phone in his own hand for a second, and then slowly set it down on the coffee table in front of him.  
  
The End  



End file.
